Quotes About Aging

Eventually Victoria will die. She's old. And that didn't sound morbid. Not at all.

Men who loved you when you were twenty, and who continue to see you the way you looked then are impossible to replace.

Draga moja prijateljice, imam sezdeset godina, ne plasim se smrti! - Zasto onda odlazite? - Ne mogu da podnesem ovaj haos, ove izlive mrznje, odvratni prizor rata. Otici cu u beki miran kutak, na selo. Zivecu od ono malo para sto mi je ostalo dok se ljudi ponovo ne dozovu pameti.

En kvinne bør ligne på en kvige: øm, tillitsfull og frodig, med en kropp så hvit som fløte - en hud som gamle skuespillerinner, skjønner dere, en hud som er myk av massasje og gjennomtrengt av sminke og pudder.

For there comes a time in life when the pity previously reserved only for children takes on a different form, a time when we study the faces of 'old people' and sense that one day we will be just like them. And that is the moment when early childhood comes to an end.

Giunge un'età, infatti, in cui la pietà che avevamo per i bambini prende un'altra forma, un'età in cui contempliamo i volti rugosi dei vecchi e intuiamo che un giorno saremo come loro... È allora che finisce la prima infanzia.

Longtemps, Francine demeura immobile ; sa colère même était tombée ; de grosses larmes gonflaient ses paupières et coulaient, lourdes et rondes, le long de ses joues. Mais elle ne songeait pas à les essuyer. Elle oubliait, pour la première fois de sa vie peut-être, que le chagrin vieillit et abîme la figure.

Así que también las personas mayores sufrían por cosas fútiles y pasajeras?

Tell her I was young once and star-bright Who am now invisible . . .

I have lived for nearly ninety years and I know nothing.

He thought, I haven't got much longer before some sort of collapse. He could not think if this would be a collapse of mind or of body. Mind and body seemed utterly fused now in cold aching pain, and darkness.

He wished he was not always young again in his dreams, it made waking up so sad.

I can't see why anyone would want to go on living when they've got like that. Whatever can he look forward to?' 'The next drink.' 'Well, you would! I think old age is awful. I hope I'll never be old.

Tenderness and absolute trust and communication and truth matter more and more as one grows older. Somehow let us not waste love, it is rare. Can we not love each other at last in freedom, without awful possessiveness and violence and fear? Love matters, not 'in love'. Let there be no more partings now. Let there be peace between us now forever, we are no longer young. Love me, love me enough.

The mysterious awful changes which alter the human face from youth to age may gently dally and delay, then act decisively all at once.

I remained, leaning a little on her shoulder, my cheek touching her crown of golden hair. It was fading into grey. One day, without having noticed the transition, I would see that it was gold no longer.

Ah realise now thit death is usually a process, rather than an event. People generally die by degrees, incrementally. They rot away slowly in homes and hoespitals, or places like this.

me doy cuenta de que por lo general la muerte es un proceso, más que un suceso. Generalmente la gente se muere poco a poco, acumulativamente. Se pudren lentamente en residencias u hospitales, o sitios como éste

The vandalism time perpetuates on the human body.

One day this magnificent charge will go, like vision, hearing, continence, and I hope it's the very last of them to succumb.

Fifty years, I hackneyed, is a long time. Not when you're looking back at them, she said. You wonder how they vanished so quickly.

We would grow tired of it, Grandpa, if it were beautiful all the time. A little change from night to night is good for us.' 'For you, because you're young, Wanda. You have many, many evenings ahead of you. I don't. I want more good ones.

I'm forty-nine, not fifteen, and I've made my peace with myself. Had I been handsome and stupid when I was fifteen, or twenty-one, as, at that time in life, I wished I had been, I would undoubtedly now no longer be handsome--but I'd still be stupid. So, in the long run, I've won out.

A human being born at one of Uranus's poles would be a middle-aged man at sunset and a very old man before it was time for a second sunrise.